The Dynasty of Swords

In the autumn of the eleventh year of the Qin Dynasty, a rare rainstorm swept through Changling, with clouds as heavy as lead accompanied by terrifying thunder, causing the capital city of the Qin Dynasty to fall into a magical realm.

Outside the Wei River port, countless officials and soldiers in black uniforms stood densely packed, their bodies nailed to the ground like iron nails, unmoving as the storm blew.

In the midst of the turbulent waves, a huge iron-clad ship suddenly came!

A lightning bolt across the sky fell at this moment, illuminating this dark and heavy ironclad ship to a snowy white.

All the officials and soldiers standing at the edge of the harbor turned pale with horror.

This iron-armored ship's collision head, is actually a real ao dragon head!

Even though the beast's head, which was even larger than a carriage, had been cut off by the neck, its crimson pupils still flashed with a crazy killing intent, and its monstrous power and fury was more shocking than the shocking waves.

Not waiting for the huge ship docked, three officials directly swept across the river tens of meters, such as three heavy hammer landed on the bow deck.

Let the three officials heart more shocked is, this huge ship above the ghastly gap and broken things everywhere, looks like do not know how much fierce battle, and they can see, only a clothed in straw raincoat, old servant-like old man standing ghost-like in the side of the ship a corner, simply can not see the figure of the person they are waiting for.

"Lord Han, where is the head of the night division?"

The three officials saluted in unison and asked with a strong sense of shock.

"There is no need to be polite, the head of the Night Division has already gone to the hiding place of the sword furnace remnant." The old servant-like old man returned the salute with a slight bow, but in between the words, amidst the torrential rain, it was impossible to see the old man's face, but his eyes were distinctly deep and cold, emitting a shockingly domineering aura.

"The head of the night division has gone?" The three officials' bodies shook at the same time and couldn't help but look back towards the city at the same time.

The entire Changling was already covered by heavy rain and twilight, with only the vague shadow of a tall corner tower looming.

At the same time, a black umbrella suddenly appeared above a river in the south of Changling.

The person holding the black umbrella walked on the raging river as if it were flat, towards an ugly alley on the bank of this big river.

There were six black officials holding the same black umbrella, of different heights, whose faces could not be seen under the cover of the black umbrella, quietly stationed on the bank waiting for this person.

After the man disembarked, the six officials did not make any extra movements, nor did they make any sound, but simply scattered in silence to follow behind them.

In the ugly alley, there was an ordinary square courtyard that gradually became the center of these black umbrellas that began to emanate a solemn aura.

The sound of water dripping, mixed with the sound of chewing food.

A middle-aged man dressed in a coarse ebony coat with his cuffs rolled up was eating his dinner under the rainy roof in the square courtyard.

The man's black clothes are worn, a messy hair with a straw rope tied up randomly, a pair of cloth shoes soles have nearly worn through, between the nails of both hands are also full of dirt, the face is ordinary, looks and the neighborhood of ordinary pickers no difference.

His dinner is also very ordinary and simple, just a bowl of coarse rice, a plate of vegetables, a plate of dried beans, but the middle-aged man ate extra sweet, each bite to chew dozens of times, only slowly swallowed belly.

After chewing the last ball of rice, the middle-aged man reached out and took a wooden scoop hanging under the eaves, scooped up a scoop of water from the nearby water jar and drank it all in one gulp, before he satisfied with a full burp.

At the same time as his belch sounded, the foremost black umbrella happened to stop at the entrance of his small courtyard.

A snow-white official boot stretched out from underneath one of the black umbrellas, looking exceptionally eye-catching in the black heavy color.

After the official boot, there is a long snow-white dress, recklessly fluttering green silk, thin lips, such as the rain in the distant mountains like faint eyebrows.

From the shocking river like a leisurely walk, but is a very bookish, waist is very moving beautiful woman.

She stepped out from under the black umbrella, letting the autumn rain drench her green silk, walked lightly into the middle-aged man's square courtyard, then bowed to the middle-aged man, saying softly, "Night Ce Leng has met Mr. Zhao Qi."

The middle-aged man raised his eyebrows slightly, just this raised eyebrow, his facial angles all over seemed to become abruptly vivid, and his body began to exude an unspeakable charm.

"I've been in Changling for three years, and this is the first time I've seen the head of the night division."

He did not return the salute, only a slight smile, but his gaze was swept from the woman's body, into the overlapping streets and alleys in the distant autumn rain.

"Changling is really boring after seeing it for a long time, just like your Qin swords and people, straight, horizontal is vertical, four flat, even the street wall is either gray or black, no beauty. Today, when I look at the posture of the head of the night division, it makes my eyes shine, and this Changling seems to be very incompatible."

His words were light and clear, like a casual sigh when chatting with people on a regular basis, but once these words were out, all the people outside the courtyard under the black umbrella had a sudden chill on their faces.

"How dare you! Zhao Zhan, the remnant of the sword furnace! The head of the night division is here personally, and you still don't give up your hands, how dare you say such heart-breaking words!"

A cold, stern voice suddenly rang out from under a black umbrella parked in the distance.

Obviously deliberately to let the middle-aged man and the white-skirted woman to see the face, the voice of the umbrella holder raised the umbrella surface, this is an exceptionally handsome young man, red lips and white teeth, complexion like jade, gaze flashes like cold electricity.

"Oh?"

A light eek sounded.

The middle-aged man's slightly frowned brow dispersed, and his face was relieved: "No wonder the aura is too weak compared to the others... So you are not one of the six offerings of the Heaven Supervision Division, so you should be an official of the Divine Capital Supervision."

The hands of the handsome young official in black were trembling imperceptibly, and the previous action seemed to have cost him a lot of courage itself.

The middle-aged man's gaze, however, had already left his body and landed on the white-skirted woman. He smiled faintly at the white-skirted woman and said, "At this age, he has already crossed the fourth realm in half a step, he should also be considered a rare talent in your dynasty."

The white-skirted woman smiled, and two shallow dimples appeared on her cheeks, "What sir said is good."

"He should just look up to you and want to leave some impression on you." The middle-aged man looked meaningfully at the white-skirted woman, "Wouldn't it be a bit of a pity?"

"You... what do you mean?" The handsome young official's face suddenly turned incomparably snow-white, his heavy coat was wet with cold sweat, and a bad premonition suddenly rose in his heart.

The white-skirted woman turned her head to look at him and smiled faintly, giving the impression that she seemed to have no ill feelings toward the handsome young man, yet a drop of rain that fell on her side was suddenly still.

Then the raindrop began to accelerate, accelerating to the point of terror, in the process of acceleration naturally elongated into a thin small sword.

A light sound of "snort".

The inside of the black umbrella was filled with blood plasma, and the head of the handsome young official broke away from his neck and landed on the ground together with the flying black umbrella, with his eyes deadly open, unable to believe that this was true.

"Good spirit!"

The middle-aged man clapped his hands and cheered, "actually even monitor your actions of the divine Capital Supervisor people are directly killed with a sword, the head of the night Division is really good spirit, but for a word of disobedience to the mind and kill one of your own rare cultivator, the head of the night Division does not seem to have any heart."

The white-skirted woman mocked slightly: "What kind of heart does a woman need, it's enough to have breasts."

The middle-aged man was slightly stunned, he did not expect the white-skirted woman to say such a sentence at all.

"That makes sense."

He smiled like a self-deprecating smile, "A character like Night Chief, no matter what he does or says, he really doesn't need to care too much about what the next person thinks."

The white-skirted woman's eyelashes trembled slightly and her lips opened slightly, yet at that moment, she sensed something and her brows knitted slightly, but she no longer made a sound.

The smile on the middle-aged man's face just then converged, a few tiny wrinkles at the corners of his eyes, were moistened and smoothed by some strange fluorescence, the body hair and skin began to shine with a jade luster, a rolling heat, making the rain falling from the sky all turn into white vapor, a strong killing aura, began to fill this small courtyard.

"Although there are differences in the main cultivation, but the world's cultivators are divided into nine realms according to the realm of strength, and each realm is divided into three grades, your emperor's majesty, which realm has he reached now?" At the beginning when the woman in white dress whose identity was obviously transcendent saluted him, he did not return the salute, but at this moment, he was serious and bowed deeply and asked solemnly.

"I don't have much of a heart, so I won't answer such questions from you without much benefit." The white-skirted woman looked at him with a calm face and said in a non-negotiable tone, "One question per person."

The middle-aged man pondered slightly and raised his head, "Okay."

The white-skirted woman didn't even discuss the order, she directly asked first: "The disciples of the sword furnace cultivate deadly swords, they don't even care about their own lives, but in these three years of lurking, you didn't assassinate our practitioners, nor did you secretly form a party, nor did you try to steal our cultivation books, what exactly do you want to do?"

The middle-aged man looked at her and sighed lightly, "Even if the secret treasures of your cultivation places are stronger, can they be as strong as what that person left behind?"

His rhetorical question was very brief, not even mentioning the name of "that person", yet these two words were like a taboo, the five officials under the black umbrella outside the courtyard did not have the slightest emotional fluctuation under the bloody scene of a sword beheading before, but now when they heard these words, the black umbrella in their hands trembled slightly at the same time, and countless poplar-like flowers shook out from the umbrella surface. Water flowers.

The white-skirted woman was immediately a bit displeased, she sneered: "It has been so many years, you still do not die, still want to see if that person left anything behind?"

The middle-aged man did not say anything, but only looked into the depths of her eyes with interest, waiting for her next answer.

The white-skirted woman looked at the middle-aged man who appeared more and more charming, she suddenly felt some sympathy for the other party and said in a soft voice: "His Holiness had reached the upper seventh realm five years ago and did not strike again during these five years, I wonder if you are satisfied with this answer?"

"Five years ago has reached the upper grade of the seventh realm, five years for breaking the mirror, should also be enough. In that case, it really might have reached the eighth realm?" A deep wisp of loss and sorrow appeared in the middle-aged man's brow, but in the next moment, it all disappeared and all turned into sharp sword intent!

His entire body began to glow, like a supreme sword that had been concealed in its sheath for many years, suddenly coming out of its sheath!

All the dried and growing artemisia grass on the walls and ridge of the small courtyard were all cut into several pieces by the sharp breath and fluttered outward.

"Please!"

The middle-aged man took a deep breath, and the world in his eyes seemed to be left with only the woman with the white dress on the opposite side.

"Zhao Zhan, the seventh disciple of the Sword Furnace, receive the Night Division Head Autumn Water Sword!"

When his voice like this sounded, the white-skirted woman was still silent, seemingly without any reaction, but the five black-clothed officials outside the courtyard were all a whisper, the figure abruptly strolled outside the courtyard five corners, the black umbrella in the hand at the same time violently rotated up.

The round shield-like black umbrella surface, with the rapid rotation, not sprinkling countless drops of rain, but shot out countless strips of strong Qi.

Boom!

The entire courtyard seemed to bulge outward like paper mache, and instantly exploded into countless burning pieces.

The burning fragments contained astonishing power, causing the soles of the five officials holding the umbrellas to make an ear-splitting scraping sound against the wet stone pavement.

The dense energy formed an impermeable wall, and very few burning fragments pierced out. The rolling hot air and burning sparks were forced to vent toward the sky above, and from a distance, it looked like a huge flood furnace had been steeply erected between heaven and earth.

The center of the flood furnace, middle-aged man Zhao Zhan's hand has somehow more than a small crimson sword.

This sword is only two feet long, but the sword and the tip of the sword on the outgoing true fire, but the formation of several meters long fire mass!

He was in front of the white dress woman he called the head of the night Division but has disappeared, only thousands of thin raindrops, such as countless small swords caged towards him.

......

In the moment when the five officials holding black umbrellas struck, dozens of sword masters wearing various kinds of long swords also surged into this ugly alley like ghosts.

These sword masters have the same aura as the five officials holding umbrellas, in such a storm, the rain drops that fell around their bodies flew away as if they were alive, and a transparent air mass was isolated outside each person's body, like an independent world.

Such a picture can only mean that they, like the five black umbrella officials, are cultivators who are rare in the world and possess unimaginable means.

However, at this moment, listening to the constant roar in the small courtyard, looking at the puddles around them because of the ground vibration and constantly splashing water droplets, even the general situation of the fight inside can not feel them at all, but their faces are getting whiter and whiter, and the cold sweat on their palms is getting more and more.

They were already clear about what kind of existence the Zhao sword furnace was, but today they finally understood that their prediction of the sword furnace was still too low.

The time was actually very short, so short that even the people nearby only thought it was thunder and did not react to what it was, when the black umbrella curtain surrounding the small courtyard suddenly made a strange cracking sound.

A black umbrella can not support, to the side floating nearly 100 meters.

The four black-clothed swordsmiths located behind the several black umbrellas suddenly let out a stern shout in unison and drew their swords in front of them.

The four black-clothed swordsmen tried to hold on with a tremor in their feet, but in the next instant, the four black-clothed swordsmen spewed out a mouthful of blood arrows and flew backwards like birds with broken wings.

The wave of Qi that came out of the black umbrella curtain was still intact, passing through a vegetable garden, destroying two hedge walls, and crossing a wide street towards a fragrant oil store across the street.

There was a loud bang.

The doorway of the oil store leaning against several door panels first burst into countless small pieces, and then half of the store was collapsed hard, the roof tiles clattered to the ground, gushing up a large dust clamor.

"Who the hell is driving in the rain without eyes, and so fast! Destroyed my store!"

An ear-piercing scream exploded from the half-collapsed store, and a middle-aged woman with an oiling spoon in her hand rushed out in grief and anger, making a move to hit someone, but the moment she saw the scene in front of her, the oiling spoon in her hand fell to the ground and she let out an even more ear-piercing scream.

"The Supervisory Heaven Division is handling the case!"

A black-clothed swordsman who was shaken to the point of spurting blood arrows from his mouth crashed down on the green stone pavement in front of this store, listening to the middle-aged woman's scream, he gritted his teeth and forced himself to stand up with his longsword bent like a crescent moon, and let out a stern shout with a biting killing intent that caused the middle-aged woman's body to tremble and her scream to stop.

Also at this time, let the face of the harsh black-clad swordsman is frozen, collapsed half of the fragrant oil store, but out of another carrying a bottle of oil teenager, at most thirteen or fourteen years old, but the dusty young face, actually not half afraid of the look.

He just looked at the black-clothed swordsman with a curious face and clear eyes, then his gaze crossed the black-clothed swordsman's body again and fell to the back of the two destroyed hedge walls.

In his line of sight, a woman with a delicate white dress was walking out of the gap in the black umbrella curtain.

"Bury him thickly."

The white-skirted woman, whose dress was soaked through, seemed tired to the extreme, and as several black oil umbrellas gathered up to help her block the rain falling above her, she simply whispered these three words.